𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲 || 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠.

4

tw : strong language, abuse

it was already dark when dahee reached her house. she opened the door quietly, holding onto her jacket that she had finally taken off after a whole day of wearing it. she hoped that her father was either not home or asleep but of course, nothing ever goes her way in this house.

"where were you, bitch?!" she ducks when she sees a glass bottle flying her way. it drops down next to her onto the ground, a loud crash resonating throughout the whole house. dahee takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the conversation she is about to have with her father.

"my teacher assigned me to tutor a classmate. i have to do it for the next couple months." she tells him, avoiding eye contact. she learned it the hard way that she shouldn't look at him directly when he speaks.

"tutor a classmate? how fucking smart could you be that you teacher needs you to do it? can't she find someone else to do it? who the fuck will cook for me now if you keep coming home late?!" he screams, coming closer to her just to push her head to the side.

dahee could feel her blood boiling. not only has this man turned her into his personal maid, but he's always underestimating her. he would do nothing but yell at her everyday, telling her that she was stupid and that she should just focus on housework. her sorry excuse of a father is the reason she tries hard in her studies, trying to prove him wrong. but of course, all he cares about is himself.

not only is he unemployed but he's also an alcoholic. he's always out drinking and coming home only to unnecessarily scream at dahee. her older sister, sohee, lived in another country after being offered a high paying job there. she would always send money to them but of course, her father would spend them on drinks. she doesn't know how her father currently is, how he makes life miserable for her sister and how he doesn't even work anymore. she only knows that dahee is taking care of the house well.

"maybe you should try cooking for yourself, then." she accidentally blurts out. she immediately looks up at her father, realising her mistake a second too late. and before she could even react, a hand makes its way to her face, the impact from it causing her to stumble a bit, almost losing balance. "what did you say to me, you ungrateful piece of shit?!"

he grabs dahee's uniform collar harshly, looking her dead in the eye. "i didn't raise you for years to have you disrespect me, you bitch! you think it's so fucking easy to take care of a kid?"

dahee didn't know what it was but she felt the need to talk back to him, even though she knows that talking back would lead her to being beaten up even more, as if she doesn't already have enough bruises on her body. "you never did raise me."

and that was the breaking point for the man. "that's it, you worthless whore." he swung his fist at dahee's face, not caring that she's a girl or that she was his own daughter. this time, she actually loses balance, dropping down onto the floor right where the beer bottle had broken. she hisses in pain as a few glass shards pierces into her skin. it didn't help that the man was hovering over her, continuing to beat her up as she lies helplessly on the ground, hoping that he would stop soon.

and when he finally does, she's left all bruised and battered, lying on the ground unmoving. the man had left the house, most probably to get more drinks, leaving his daughter right next to the front door, struggling to even get up after being beaten up that badly.

she knew she shouldn't have opened her mouth at all. she knew the consequences yet she still did it. getting beaten everyday just wasn't enough it seems. she could've just had a conversation with the man but no, she opened her mouth and now she's the one suffering. the bruises from the day before, heck even a few from the week before hadn't fully healed and she's already got plenty new ones.

she groans as she gets up from the floor, her left arm and the left side of her face having glass shards pierced into the skin. she makes her way to grab a broom, wanting to clear the mess first before cleaning herself up. she knew that if her dad got home and everything is still a mess, he would get all riled up over again. she didn't want that. she's had enough already.

and when the living room seemed back to normal, she made her way to the bathroom, wanting to clean the cuts on her arm and side of her face. when she finally sees herself in the mirror, a small gasp left her mouth. there were multiple small cuts on the side of her tear stained cheek but one that stood out was the huge one at the side of her forehead.

how am i gonna cover this up? she thinks. she always had her jacket to cover the huge, purple bruises on her arms and sometimes her neck but this time it's her face. if she put on a bandaid, it'll look bad and if she doesn't, it'll still look bad. make up isn't an option because she didn't own any. guess i'll just have to cover it with my hair and see how it goes.

she sighs, using a tissue to wipe away her tears before she continues to get the glass shards out of her skin, groaning when she had to use alcohol swabs on them. she quickly cleans her cuts and proceeds to take a shower, wanting to be done before her father gets home.

she didn't understand. how could a man who used to treasure his family so much, who would give up anything and everything for his family, turn out this way? sure, his wife passed away but how could he treat his own daughter that way? his daughter whom he swore to protect her with his whole life, his daughter that he used to adore so much. how could a loving father turn into such an awful, awful monster?